by Kari Gregg
"It can be." Mitch's mouth unfurled. "I'll be careful with you. Very careful. And I'm not saying you won't enjoy it. You will. You'll love me fucking you." Sam shivered.
Mitch smiled. He wouldn't need to seduce Sam to him, no, but soothing his virginal fears suddenly leapt to the top of Mitch's list of major turn-ons. "I won't push you into it, Sammy. Only when you're ready."
Sam licked his lips.
Mitch smothered an aroused moan.
"What if I'm never ready?" his new lover asked.
Mitch's balls tightened. "Then you're never ready." Mitch shrugged, pulse racing when Sam's hot gaze drank in the play of his muscle as his shoulder lifted and fell. "I can't make it good for you if you don't trust me, if you don't want it as badly as I do. If I can't have you that way, I won't fuck you at all. You can pound your cock into my ass three times a night for the next six months and it'll still be all right. I won't take you, Sammy, until you want me to."
Sam's blue eyes darted to meet Mitch's steady stare. "You'll let me . . . are you saying I can . . . ?"
"Fuck me?" Mitch suggested silkily. "I told you that you could have me any time you wanted if you moved in and I meant it." He dangled the juicy apple of temptation in front of him and Sam snatched at it with both greedy fists. "I can't wait for you to fuck me."
Sam's nostrils flared. His hands gripped the edge of the table so tightly his knuckles shone white. "Saturday afternoon, in the kitchen—I wanted to—"
"You were firing on whoremones and lust then. You hadn't learned how good a man can make you feel or the pleasure of making your lover—your gay lover—come. I'm not just a willing orifice you can fuck your dick into anymore. Am I, Sammy?" Sam's jaw clenched. He slowly shook his head.
"You like sucking on me because, at heart, you aren't a selfish lover. You enjoy making me feel good, want to make me come. I'm not a selfish lover, either." Mitch stood, pushing his chair back. His cock hung hard and heavy between his legs. Feral desire flashed in Sam's eyes.
"Let me show you how unbelievable it can be for us."
* * * * *
While Sam—ridiculously—cleared their dinner from the dining room and kitchen, Mitch retrieved a tube of lube from the bathroom, where he and Sam had left it when they'd plowed Liv's ass Friday night. He listened to the clatter of the dishes Sam loaded into his dishwasher as he moved to their bedroom, and forgoing the overhead light, he flicked on a lamp on his nightstand instead. The lamp bathed the room in a subtle, romantic glow Mitch knew would seduce Sammy to a quivering, needy puddle. Would seduce Mitch as well.
He set the tube on the nightstand and climbed into bed to wait for Sam. He gave his very erect and very hard cock an occasional, negligent stroke. He'd watched Sam fuck Livvy's ass only a few nights ago. In that respect, Sam was every bit the practiced courtesan Mitch himself was. Sam's tight hole had never been fucked, but Sam knew what to do when he was the one doing the fucking. That was for damn sure. Going first, Sam had taken his time to wind Liv up, sucking her beautiful tits and rubbing her cunt. He hadn't flinched when Mitch had retrieved the lube from his bedroom and handed it to him. Sam had simply bent Liv over the toilet and slicked her puckered ass as he diddled her pussy. Then, he'd smoothed the condom over his cock and pressed the tube into her palm. "Make it good, but not so good I come."
Liv had bent to the task of oiling Sam's dick with mind-bending skill. And grunted out her pleasure when Sam had eased—not crudely shoved—his hard cock into her.
His long, measured strokes had ridden Liv's delectable ass. Sam hadn't even needed to stimulate her cunt to make her come. The pace he set, the steady thrust of his dick in and out of her asshole had been all she'd needed to bring on her orgasm. She'd gasped and whimpered and Sam had stiffened, grinding his hips into her butt cheeks as he'd thrown back his head, gritted his teeth.
Sam, coming, was a work of art. A portrait of raw power and beauty. Mitch worked his thumb over the head of his dick, his body already shaking as, in his mind, he replaced Liv's gorgeous body bent over the toilet with his. Sam's cock slipping in and out of him.
His dick stretching and filling Mitch's ass.
When Sam walked into their bedroom, papers in hand, Mitch stared from the center of their bed. The achingly slow stroke of his hand on his dick didn't pause. "I was thinking of you."
Sam crossed to the bed, his body tense as he watched Mitch's sluggish masturbation. When the younger man tried to pass the papers to him, Mitch grinned.
"My hand's a little busy, babe."
Sam sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers covering Mitch's fist before gently brushing Mitch's hand away. "Let me," he said, his jaw jerking at the papers he'd dropped to the mattress while his hand jerked Mitch's cock.
It was like kismet.
Perfection.
"Read them," Sam said, pumping Mitch so tenderly that Mitch felt every stroke with the rapidly tightening coil in his balls.
Chest rising in short, shallow pants, Mitch picked up the sheets of paper. A medical report.
He scanned through the foreign mix of letters and numbers, the abbreviated crap nobody who hadn't dropped a hundred grand in medical school could decipher, and found what Sam had intended him to see on the second page.
Mitch checked the date.
"I had my annual physical last month and I haven't fucked anyone without a condom since," Sam murmured, bending under his medical records to blow on Mitch's dick. "No STDs."
Oh Jesus.
Oh shit.
Mitch's hips thrust upwards, seeking Sam's hot mouth, even though Mitch didn't want Sam's lips on him. He didn't want to come that way, not this time. But the need to come was that overpowering, tingling in his balls, knotting his stomach. The papers in his hand shook. "You want to fuck me bare."
Chapter Eighteen
"I don't want to wear a condom," Sam said and his hot breath bathed Mitch's crotch. "I want to come in your ass. I want to make you as messy as you made Liv last weekend."
A bead of sweat trickled down Mitch's spine. Heat flashed over him—crippling heat and brutal desire. Because he wanted that too, all of it. "Do you need to see my medical records first?"
When Sam shook his head, his smooth jaw brushed back and forth over Mitch's swollen head. "I trust you," he said, then licked at the pre-come that had worked up Mitch's dick no matter how desperately Mitch had tried to hold himself in check. Mitch's back bowed.
He let the papers fall, dove his fingers into Sam's silky blond hair to pull his head away from his cock before his mouth replaced his pumping fist.
Sam stared at him, his blue eyes shining with dark promise. "You're close." Mitch shook his head. "I'll come when you fuck me." He nodded to the tube he'd left on the nightstand. "It's your show, honey. Tell me where you want me." Sam sucked in a sharp breath.
Released Mitch's dick.
"Right here is fine," he said. "Right now's even better. Get on your knees." Mitch rose, chest heaving. He kneeled on the bed, facing Sam as he watched him undress. He really was a work of art. In the soft lamplight, the skin that stretched over Sam's chest shone a warm tan as Sam ripped Mitch's favorite sweatshirt over his head. The sparse hair thickened at his belly, the shade of his body hair darker than the pelt of honey at his temple. Sam shoved his fingers through that honey, before lowering the same hand to pop free the button of his jeans. When he unzipped, the glimpse of golden curls that carpeted Sam's groin made Mitch groan.
Sam smiled at him, gently easing his jeans over his hips.
Mitch's heart lurched as Sam teased him. Sam's taunting fingers paused to trace the rigid length of his cock.
Mitch's eyes snapped shut.
He shuddered.
Nine inches.
Definitely nine inches.
Sam's low, sexy laugh tickled his ears and when Mitch forced his eyes open, Sam pushed soft denim past his thighs, his knees. His jeans dropped to his ankles. "You genuinely want this," he said, kicking his feet free.
Mitch nod
ded.
Hell, yeah.
He wanted Sam so bad his skin itched, felt too tight for his body. His pulse resounded in his ears like thunder. "I want you."
Sam's lips curved. "Put your hands on the headboard." On his knees, Mitch's pivot was awkward, but arousal clawed into him so fiercely, his movements would've been clumsy, anyway. He grabbed the headboard, walked his knees backward to stretch out for Sam, leaving every part of his body exposed. His cock jutted toward the comforter Mitch hadn't bothered to strip off the bed.
When Sam reached for the lube on the nightstand and the mattress dipped as his knee settled on it, Mitch quivered in anticipation. When Sam stroked his butt, Mitch moaned.
"You have a great ass," Sam said, cupping one cheek, "but you know that." Mitch's muscles tensed as Sam kneaded his flesh. His fingers tightened on the headboard.
Sam's finger traced the crack of his ass in a slow arch, back and forth, teasing Mitch's asshole until Mitch wanted to howl with it. Shout at him to stop playing with it, to fuck him. Shove his dick inside him and fuck him. Fuck him hard. But he didn't.
Instead, he blew ragged pants past his lips and let Sam have him. Let Sam take him any way the man wanted.
His jaw clenched when Sam's lazy finger slowed, lingered at his eagerly waiting hole, and he groaned through gritted teeth when Sam's hot mouth opened over his ass cheek. At the moment Sam's mouth sucked, one fingertip pushed inside. Mitch shuddered violently, only his steely grip on the headboard holding him upright as Sam worked a slippery finger into him. Sam's lips ate at his ass; his unhurried finger fucked it. Mitch's hole burned at the delicate, languid exploration. He wanted more. The slick glide of Sam's single finger lethargically pumping his ass only made Mitch's body feel that much emptier. He was a cavernous shell. A shivering, hollow, aching shell.
"Oh God," he ground out when Sam pushed a second finger inside him. Sam hummed low in his throat, his tongue now tracing Mitch's quivering butt cheeks as his second finger joined the first in the sluggish fucking that was driving Mitch insane. "You're more than ready for me." When Mitch threw his ass back into Sam's hand to try to take more of his fingers in, Sam laughed, his voice husky and amazed. "You're vibrating with how much you want me. You're very close to coming."
"Yes," Mitch said on a breathless pant, fighting for air. His orgasm built, twisting deep in his belly. "I don't want to come until you're inside me." Mitch's cock stretched, thickened, protruded heavily between his legs. "Please." Sam kissed his ass cheek, then—thank God—lifted from him, easing his fingers out of Mitch's hungry asshole. The mattress dipped when Sam moved behind him and Sam's knees bracketed Mitch's. He stroked a damp hand down Mitch's bare back and Mitch's climax gnawed at his control with voracious teeth.
"Please," he said again. Mitch didn't mind begging. As long as it got him what he wanted. And it did.
Sam's dick brushed the flesh of his cheek, smearing the lube Sam must've slathered over it onto Mitch's trembling ass. His bulbous head pushed against Mitch's hole, already burning hot from the fucking Sam's fingers had given it. Sam pushed, but didn't enter, didn't shove his cock up inside him.
Mitch could've wailed with frustration.
His orgasm was cutting into him, sharp as a razor. He didn't know how much more he could take. Holding back, not giving in to the screaming pleasure that blazed through him, hurt. His cock throbbed, painfully. His ears rang. "Please. I need to come. Please, please."
"Not yet." Sam fondled Mitch's butt cheeks. "You can wait a little longer." Mitch hung his head low, sucking in great lungs full of air, but it didn't help. He shook so violently he wondered that his bones didn't jolt out of place.
"Don't come," Sam said. The bed rocked as he shifted his hips and the head of his cock popped into Mitch's eager ass. Sam froze, leaving only his stiff head lodged in Mitch's hole.
Mitch's body stiffened. His spine bowed. He groaned, fighting to halt the spasm clawing its way up his dick. He bit back a curse, his senses reeling at the stretch of his asshole around Sam's thick girth, felt the burn of it to the depths of his soul.
"Okay?" Sam lightly rubbed Mitch's hips. "You aren't going to come, are you?" Mindless, helpless, his chest heaving with the force of his sharp pants, Mitch could only shake his head and hope it was true.
"Good."
Mitch's eyes widened when Sam took his cock away, sliding it free. Then snapped shut when Sam shoved back inside.
Just the head.
Only the head.
Oh Christ.
Sam fucked the rounded tip of his penis in and out, setting a shatteringly languorous pace that lit Mitch on fire. Charred him to the bone. His heart galloped in his chest. His cock ached with sweet, sweet agony as he surrendered to each taunting, teasing thrust.
Empty?
Had he felt empty before?
The steady pump of Sam's cock head into his ass swept Mitch bare, wiped his mind clean, cleared every urge and instinct from him except one: his need to be fucked. Mitch didn't recognize the hoarse, feral sounds that came from his throat. He didn't care. His world had narrowed. Nothing else mattered except the fiery burn of Sam's cock stretching his hole and the wild orgasm perched to destroy him as soon as Sam gave him that first sharp thrust.
"Amazing," Sam said, voice low and breathless. "You're amazing, Mitch. Fucking you will be like riding the beast."
Sam picked up his pace. The round tip of Sam's cock penetrated his ass, racing faster and faster. Mitch grunted out gluttonous pleasure, took Sam's stingy fucking. The ring of his ass flamed to an inferno that sucked him into the maelstrom, burned everything away except the need.
He had to come.
He needed to come.
His existence pinpointed to just that and only that.
The orgasm ripped at him, snarling to break free.
Sam leaned over him, his body covering Mitch's, his chest pressed to Mitch's back. His hot breath fanned Mitch's ear as his hips arched and pumped. "Ready?" Sam didn't give him an opportunity to answer, not that Mitch was capable of forming words.
With a grunting thrust, Sam speared his cock into him. All of it—every hard, glorious inch—shoved into Mitch's ass and pushed deep. Sam's dick stretched him, split him, spread his grasping hole wide until Mitch's ass encased him and Sam's hard belly slapped against Mitch's sweaty butt cheeks.
Mitch's heart stopped.
A scream of exultant joy built in his throat, but he couldn't suck in the air to release it.
His senses splintered into a thousand jagged pieces.
Sam drew his hips back—
Mitch cried out at the loss.
—and slammed into him again, burying his cock into Mitch's ass until the hairy scratch of Sam's balls scraped Mitch's fleshy cheeks.
Finally, Sam fucked him.
Mitch grunted. He groaned. He held his body still for the delirious ride. Sam's cock scraped the walls of Mitch's hole and filled his ass so fully, so completely . . . . Sam's dick, stiff, huge, pressed down as he pumped into Mitch's ass. Mitch's pleasure swirled around him, spiraling tighter, as fast and as furious as Sam's pistoning hips. Crude, carnal, the sensations crashed over him again and again, with each wondrous stroke of Sam's cock.
Trapped.
Sinking.
Mitch reeled in the storm of Sam's blissfully brutal fucking.
Mitch didn't care if he came anymore, didn't care if his cock jerked and spurted and sprayed. As long as Sam didn't stop driving his dick hard and quick into his tingling ass.
Mitch's senses sharpened to a knife's point. Their heavy breathing. The crack of slapping skin as Sam humped him. The pound of Sam's heart against Mitch's spine. Sam's wild moans of pleasure echoed in Mitch's ears.
Liv dazzled him like this.
Bewildered him.
Swept him up in the beauty of their mating.
But Mitch had never expected to find it with Sam.
The awesome crush of pleasure mushroomed inside him until it exploded, destroyed him, le
ft him weak and dizzy. His body collapsed, only his iron grip on the headboard held his head and shoulders above the mattress. Sam's cock rode him down, followed his steaming hot ass, kept pumping.
Mitch moaned, too dazed by his stunned, consuming pleasure to resist when Sam slid his hand under him to fasten it to his hard, aching dick. Sam finished him in two strokes. Mitch's groan tore loose from somewhere deep inside him. His chest expanded, his lungs sucking in oxygen. His fingers clamped into the headboard of the bed. And he—finally—came so hard that his ears rang. His cock sprayed, spurting thick semen on Sam's hand and their bed.
When it was over, Sam's fingers stayed, wrapped around him and gluey with Mitch's cum. Sam's cock still fucked into him, pummeling his asshole. Sam's breath still fanned his ears. "I'm going to come inside you now. Close your eyes, Mitch. Feel my dick shooting into you," Sam panted.
Dazed, exhausted, Mitch obeyed.
He closed his eyes and seconds later, when Sam's dick thickened and slammed into his ass with all the finesse of a 2x4, when Sam's body stiffened above his and he shouted out his release, Mitch felt Sam's dick jerk. He felt the scalding heat of Sam's semen jetting free, felt its wetness deep inside him, felt Sam's cum filling him. Sam's body crumpled on top of him, his lax weight covering Mitch. Sam's heavy arm lifted to Mitch's shivering shoulder.
Sam's lips brushed his ear.
Mitch slept.
Chapter Nineteen
Mitch drove his truck down Euclid two days later, hunting for a parking place, when he spotted Liv waiting for him on the sidewalk. He braked and she pulled the door open. She hopped in, fumbling with the seatbelt in her haste. Like she was racing to get away before any of her neighbors saw her in his truck.
As soon as the belt was in place, he drove down the street and turned around at a derelict gas station on the corner.
He wouldn't let it bother him.
